Page 42 of Rookie Rules

Rowan set his bag on the floor.

Footsteps sounded at the far end of the corridor, then turned away. The bus would leave soon. Privacy here came in fragments, measured by doors and other people's schedules.

Rowan could have kept walking. Instead he had stopped where Luca could reach him and placed the bag down as if whatever came next deserved both hands free.

"Then ask the question."

Luca had expected deflection. The invitation stripped the performance out of him.

He stepped closer.

"Did last night matter to you?"

Rowan's eyes did not leave his.

"It changed what you know," he said.

"About your back?"

"About me."

The distinction moved through Luca more sharply than the win.

"And today?"

"We played well."

"That's not an answer."

"It is the answer you get here."

Concrete. Fluorescent light. Team voices distant around the curve. Rowan had chosen a place that was private only by accident and temporary by schedule.

Luca stopped within reach.

"Tell me to go," he said.

Rowan's attention dropped once to Luca's mouth, then returned.

He did not speak.

Luca waited.

One beat. Two.

Enough time for Rowan to move, refuse, call him reckless.

Rowan stayed.

Luca lifted a hand slowly and set it against the side of Rowan's neck.

Warm skin. Damp hair at the edge of his thumb.

Rowan inhaled, controlled and audible.

"Bad decision?" Luca asked.

"Yes."